The cries of passion vibrating through the lantern-lit hallways of The Scarlet Manor weren’t new to Master Cyrus Rayven. A mere human wouldn’t be able to hear the hoarse cries of pleasure through the soundproof rooms, but a Deiwalker—a vampire who withstood sunlight—could.
His was a heritage that held little satisfaction for him. Cyrus was well aware of the kinky fetishes and fantasies executed behind the heavy oak doors of the old mansion, which housed twenty-five suites. Many a liaison had occurred between those of the human populace and vampires of a primitive, more lustful, clan.
A cynical feeling consumed him. The passion between a human and a member of the undead was as ancient as the seductive beat of lovemaking, but the latter did not make Cyrus happy. Being a Deiwalker, outlivi ng anyone he’d loved, only served as a constant reminder of everything he’d lost and why he chose to remain a recluse, vastly different from the uninhibited existence his twin boasted about.
The Manor made no distinction when it came to how a client chose to execute their fantasies. They offered their services to an exclusive few, and the amenities afforded to those lucky enough to be chosen would keep the brothers in business for a long time to come. All clients were required to sign a waiver that forbade them to talk about their encounters with members of the media, and, as an extra precaution, patrons were driven to the facility blindfolded. So far, they had managed to avoid any major lawsuits or television coverage, not that the press and several magazines hadn’t tried every game in the book to gain access to the infamous Rayven brothers. If his brother, Coye, would be more discreet about his own affairs, their chances of keeping their secrets hidden would be even greater.
Cyrus scowled as he thought of his brother. Coye was never denied an opportunity to indulge. Sleeping with the mayor’s daughter had almost cost them their business a year ago. His sibling’s lack of restraint was merely one difference between them. Coye believed in utilizing his heritage as a Deiwalker to the hilt, while Cyrus saw it as a handicap.
Listening to others’ screams of pleasure left Cyrus hollow. He continued to walk down the hallway, his jaw clenched and his fists tight. He’d said goodbye to his own days of lust when his mate, Jordana, had been murdered at the hands of her jilted ex-love almost three years ago. Their union had been filled with wonder, an untamed love. When she’d died, a part of Cyrus had died with her.
He wasn’t blind to the fact that many a human and vampire had tried to finagle him into their bed over the years. Coye thought him insane. His twin loved everything about pursuing the sexual nature of lif e and everything pleasurable.
Just as Cyrus neared the end of the hallway, a door opened. Without looking, he felt his twin’s call. The hammering pulse of desire and the intimate heat of a female—in this case two—permeated his senses. He sighed.
He paused before turning to the sight of pure decadent debauchery. The Sultan’s Room was elaborately furnished in vibrant purples, cranberries, creams, reds and blues. Pillows of every size lined the octagon-shaped room. Erotic oils and gels had been placed in decorative vases, and feathers were displayed around the walls. The lanterns were dimmed low. A warm glow silhouetted the figures in the middle of the floor.
“There’s enough for two, brother.” Coye grinned as he gripped the silky hair of the buxom brunette.
Every Southern belle knows how to get their man, but Noely Lamont ends up seducing the wrong Rayven brother.
Noely Lamont is a Southern Bell extraordinaire and every southern woman knows how to get their man. She’s chosen Cyrus Rayven, the man who vehemently ignored her advances. Noely will bring him down to his knees, but then she didn’t count on meeting her match in twin brother, Coye or the red-hot passion that he ignited in her body.
Coye Rayven couldn’t be more intrigued in the hellion that had her sights set on his recently engaged brother, Cyrus. He’d do him the service of taking care of Miss. Lamont – starting with her lusty appetite that revel his own. Coye finds himself tempted to have the beauty as his own. Body and Soul.